


When fear crept into my mind

by Imnotweirdjustwriting



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Gen, Past Abuse, Spot and Jack are brothers, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-05 01:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14605947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imnotweirdjustwriting/pseuds/Imnotweirdjustwriting
Summary: Spot struggles to help his brother





	When fear crept into my mind

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ‘Back to December’ by Taylor Swift 
> 
> Have a scene from a fic I scrapped

The banging on the front porch went unnoticed to Spot at first. The storm outside was impossibly loud, the crashing thunder easily drowning out other noise. Spot was used to listening for Jack, though, and quickly made his way to the door at the sound. 

He opened it to find Jack sitting on the steps of the porch, narrowly avoiding the pouring rain. He had an impressive stack of empty bottles piled next to him and another in his hand, bloodied knuckles clenched tight around the bottle. 

Jack was still in his graduation robe, though it was hitched up and tattered. He had blood flattening his hair on one side, slowly trickling down his temple. 

“What are you doing, Jack?” Spot asked as gently as he could. 

Jack laughed harshly. “Making the most of my time.”

Spot sat down next to him. “Is that why you’re on the porch completely drunk when you graduated this morning?”

“We graduated this morning,” Jack corrected him. He stood, unsteady. “I fucking graduated, Spot. Look at that, bet you never expected that.” He stepped into the rain, tilting his head back so the raindrops splashed across his face. 

Spot didn’t know what Jack wanted him to say. “I always knew you would graduate, Jack.”

Jack laughed bitterly. He took another drink, looking pained. “I never planned on it, you know?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spot felt like he didn’t know anything for a single moment. 

“I mean I was supposed to fucking off myself before graduation, right?” Jack said without moving. 

“Jesus, Jack, don’t say that,” Spot said, his stomach turning. 

Jack gestured at Spot with his bottle, a sick grin on his face. “Everyone’s gotta have a plan in life, right? Mine was ending that shit early. Not like anyone expected it, you know. Some fucked up kid with a fucked up childhood ending it before that became a fucking problem.”

Spot felt shaky watching Jack. “Come inside, you drank too much.”

“Jeez, Spot. You’re my brother, not my mom.”  
“I still care about you,” Spot tried. 

Jack laughed. “Sure, cuz you have to. If you’d had it your way you wouldn’t even have a brother. Or you’d have some perfect kid with no problems. Probably going to a damn Ivy League instead of a shitty state school,” Jack laughed again though the sound sent chills down Spot’s spine. 

“Stop talking like this,” Spot tried again. “Lets go inside, we can talk inside.”

Jack was still focused on the rain. The water washed away the blood on his head revealing a nasty gash that Spot couldn't even begin to guess where it was from. Jack’s lips were slightly parted, his eyes closed as he let the rain wash over him. Spot knew he wasn’t going to be stopping anyone soon. 

“You’re going to get sick,” Spot pointed out. 

Jack jumped at another loud boom of thunder, unmoved otherwise. “I’ll catch my death you mean? Good.”

“Jack-“

“I’ve done enough. I’m done,” Jack moved back to the porch, angrily sweeping the bottles away. They clattered against each other, some cracking at the force. “I’m done!” He said louder, nearly yelling it at the sky. 

Spot cringed at the noise. “You need to come inside.”

Jack shook rain out of his hair, practically snarling. “I don’t need to do anything. I’ve done enough.”

“Jack,” Spot said as gently as he could, though he felt like he was shaking. “I need you to come inside.”

“You don’t need me,” Jack muttered. 

“I do need you,” Spot said. He laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Jack curled in on himself yay the touch. “I need you, Jack. And right now I need you to come inside.”

Jack didn’t say anything. He knelt to pick up the empty bottles, struggling to hold them all. 

“Leave them,” Spot told him. 

Jack faltered but dropped them, standing unsteadily to follow Spot into the house. Jack practically collapsed on the couch, his arm over his face. Spot went to the kitchen to grab him a glass of water before coming back. 

“Drink this,” he said. 

“Fuck no,” Jack muttered. “I hate water.”

“I know you do, but you need some right now,” Spot handed him the glass. 

Jack drank it in one go, scowling as he handed it back to Spot. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you.”

“Fuck you,” Jack said half heartedly. “I don’t need anything.”

Spot sighed, sitting down on the small portion of the couch not occupied by Jack’s legs. “If you didn’t need anything you wouldn’t be completely wasted right now.”

“I told you,” Jack mumbled. 

“About how you don’t think your life is worth anything? Yeah, I heard,” Spot squeezed Jack’s leg. 

Jack made a noise, moving his leg away. “Don’t start lying to me now, Spot. It’s not like it is.”

“Don’t say that,” Spot said. “Don’t just say your life isn’t worth anything, Jack.”

“Well it’s not,” Jack grumbled. “I was planning to do the world a favor.”

“Stop talking like this,” Spot was barely breathing. 

“What? You don’t blame yourself?” Jack pressed a hand to his head. “Fuck.”

“I never blame myself,” Spot lied. “What happened to your head?”

“Who cares?” Jack turned his face so it was against the couch. 

“Okay, fine. Don’t tell me what happened. I’m still cleaning that up.”

Jack groaned. “You’re wasting your time.”

A sudden flash of lightning lit the room followed by a deafening crash of thunder. Jack jumped, swearing at the sudden movement. 

“Fuck, I can’t fucking stand this.” Jack went to stand and laid back down immediately. “Fuck this.”

Spot pulled Jack’s legs further onto his lap. “Why don’t you sleep?” 

Jack laughed. “Like I deserve that.”

“It’s just sleep, Jack.”

“I don’t deserve anything.”

Spot leaned his head back against the couch. He felt a little bit like he was drowning. The world felt too heavy around him and he was left barely floating, hanging onto his brother. 

“Why don’t we just go to sleep, okay? Like we used to.”

Jack made a sound that could’ve been a sob but he wasn’t crying. “I’m so tired,” he whispered. 

Spot didn’t look at Jack. “I know. I know, let’s go get some sleep.”

He stood up slowly, leaning down to help Jack up. Jack leaned heavily on him as they stumbled upstairs. Spot managed to open Jack’s door without letting him fall, laying him gently on the bed. 

“Don’t go,” Jack said. 

Spot tugged a blanket over Jack, making sure he was comfortable. “I’m staying right here. Are you too hot?”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t want this.” He wiggled out of his graduation robe, dropping it on the floor before curling back up under the blankets. 

Spot was grateful he was still in his pajamas. He moved onto the bed with Jack, unsure of what Jack actually needed. They’d shared a bed every night growing up, the only way either of them could sleep with their nightmares. He figured Jack just needed him to stay. 

“Are you going to sleep?” Spot asked him, pulling the blanket over himself. 

“Are you telling me to?” Jack asked. 

Spot shrugged. “You know I can’t ever tell you what to do.”

Jack laughed. “It’s because you’re a dick.”

“Fuck you. I’m the one who had to get up and drag your drunk ass inside,” Spot said with zero conviction. 

“That’s cuz I’m your brother, asshole,” Jack turned to hide his face in his pillow. 

Spot scrubbed a hand through Jack’s hair. “Go to bed.”

Jack groaned. “Gotcha.”

He was snoring before the storm quieted. Spot couldn’t bring himself to sleep. He felt dizzy with the events of the night. Just this morning he’d gotten his stupid diploma. Now he was sharing a bed with his drunk and upset brother. Part of him itched to call Race to talk about it. Another part of him wanted to cry. 

He stroked Jack’s hair, making sure that it wasn’t sticking to the blood. He checked that Jack was asleep before slipping out of his bed. He grabbed water and a towel from the bathroom, stopping to get a trash can for Jack’s inevitable sickness in the morning. 

He went back to Jack, sitting down as quietly as he could. He carefully wet the towel, wiping the blood off of Jack’s forehead. He dropped the towel next to Jack’s bed, ready to deal with it in the morning. 

“Goodnight,” Spot muttered. He laid down, exhausted. He could deal with everything in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I’m doing great


End file.
